


When There's Music and There's Laughter

by Aeruthin



Series: Original Family Short Stories [1]
Category: The Originals (TV)
Genre: (ok maybe a small bit of angst), Childhood Memories, Family Fluff, Gen, Human, Music, No Angst, Pre-Series, Siblings, Yes it is possible
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-03
Updated: 2020-02-26
Packaged: 2020-10-06 14:01:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20508191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aeruthin/pseuds/Aeruthin
Summary: Part 1: Klaus and Rebekah have planned a little surprise for their big brother Elijah, who has reached the adult age of twelve winters.----Part 2: When Elijah searches the attic of the compound, he finds an item very precious to him





	1. And Around We Go

Elijah knows something is wrong the moment he steps a foot inside the hut. The fire in the centre makes the shadows dance on the walls, and the most of the hut is covered in darkness. From one of those corners, behind the pile of caskets which holds their winter blankets and gear, he can hear shuffling and scraping. Something crashes against the crates, making it shake.

A giggle rings in the air, followed by a hard thump and a muffled "ouch!"

Niklaus and Rebekah are obviously so enraptured by their game of hide and seek that they haven't noticed him enter.

"Is he here?" Rebekah whispers. Elijah can see the top of her head through one of the holes between the crates. It bobbles up and down as she attempts to rise and take a peek before Niklaus pulls her back down. 

"Shh!" Niklaus chides. "He can arrive at any moment."

Elijah shakes his head and smiles. He stretches, making himself as big as possible and kicks against the pots standing next to the fire. One clatters to the ground, and the creatures behind the crates each let out a startled gasp of breath.

"Niklaus? Rebekah?" Elijah calls out, pretending to search for them. "Mother has some chores which need doing." 

That latter part isn't actually true, although Elijah is sure that his mother can think of something boring for them to do. He went looking for his siblings because the ice at the river is starting to break, which is always impressive to watch.

The hut has gone awfully silent, although Elijah can still hear some shuffling.

He turns around and places his hands on his hips.

"Hmm, it seems they are not here..." he says out loud. "Where could they be..." He waits. Neither Rebekah and Niklaus are good at patience, or keeping quiet.

"Well then... I should go..." he drawls out. He stomps on the ground for good measure, turning his back towards them. 

"Surprise!"

Elijah pivots on his heels and barely has time to brace himself before both Rebekah and Niklaus barrel into him. Their combined weight is enough to force him back. He laughs, ruffling their hair.

"There you are! Honestly, Mother was scared to death!"

They grin up at him, pleased with their deception. 

"We were behind the crates!" Rebekah exclaims. Niklaus elbows her. 

"Don't tell him!" 

"Don't worry, I won't tell Kol about your brilliant hiding place."

Niklaus seems relieved, and then all of a sudden shy. He tilts his head down and doesn't look Elijah in the eye. Elijah now realises that he is holding something behind his back. Rebekah fidgets with her dress. Whatever is going on, they are both in on it, and it extends beyond the little jump scare.

"What it is, Niklaus?"

Niklaus hesitates, but before Elijah can truly become worried, he holds out his hand which had been hidden, nearly pressing it against Elijah's chest.

"This is for you!" he blurts out.

Elijah blinks in surprise. 

"Because you are old now," Rebekah adds wisely.

Elijah reaches out and gently places his hand over Niklaus'. The gift seems to be a piece of wood, small and rectangle. 

This spring, Elijah had reached twelve winters, the age at which a boy becomes an adult. When Finn had reached that age three years ago, they had celebrated with a wild deer his Father had killed for the occasion. They could eat meat for a week and had some to spare. For once, the atmosphere in the house had been merry. 

More important than reaching twelve, however, was reaching fifteen, the age at which a boy gained true manhood. Their father, and thus their mother, had considered Finn's initiation more important than Elijah turning twelve, and their father had taken Finn to the woods for training. They had been gone for over a week now.

"Thank you," he says, and he finds his voice catching. He hadn't expected anything, really. He had watched the preparations for Finn with resignation, and had convinced himself that he didn't care. Now, though, his throat tightens. 

"Let's go outside," he suggests, and leaves the hut, using the small moment to compose himself. He lifts the gift in the light outside. It is indeed a wooden rectangle, but there are holes expertly drilled into its sides. They are of varying depth. A small leather wrap is connected to one of its corners.

Niklaus is practically bouncing, and Rebekah is infected by his excitement.

"You have to blow in it!" Niklaus explains, unable to keep still. He plucks the wood from Elijah's hands and adds deed to word. It doesn't make a sound, and he frowns. 

"No, like this!" Rebekah steals the instrument and blows in it with zeal, with similar results. Niklaus glares at her, and sensing his mood shift, Elijah interjects.

"Did you make this?" He had heard Gunnar play on such an instrument before. He'd taught Elijah some techniques, but had said that the wood itself was quite intricate to make. The depths had to be exactly right.

Niklaus nods proudly. Elijah holds out his hand to Rebekah, and she gives him back the instrument. Elijah places it under his lips and blows down, generating a high pitched but clean sound. He moves it and tests each pipe. Each tone is different, but each sounds the same as he remembers it from Gunnar's. 

"How long did it take you?"

"From when the leaves fell of the trees."

Nearly the whole winter then. A warm glow fills Elijah and he smiles. He brings the instrument to his lips again and starts playing a small tune. It takes him a bit to get the position of the notes right, but soon the memories of his short lessons resurface, and the sound grows more powerful. 

The music fills the little clearing before their hut. Rebekah grabs Niklaus' hands and spins him around, mimicking the dances of the villagers. 

Elijah continues playing. He has to improvise at some point, but it isn't that hard with only seven tones. And Rebekah and Niklaus don't seem to mind anyway. He decreases the tempo and his siblings crash to the ground, laughing. Soon they quiet, though, and he continues playing a softer and slower tune, trying out various combinations.

He stops suddenly, blinking. He has no clue about how long he has been going on. Niklaus and Rebekah are on the ground, Rebekah with her head on Niklaus' shoulder.

Elijah sits down next to them, holding the flute in his hands. It is a miracle that such a small object can bring forth such happiness.

Honestly, his Father and Finn have given him the best present he could wish for by leaving the village. It has given him and his younger siblings the chance to experience this moment of peace, if only for a while.

"Thank you. Both of you." 

His sibling's big answering smiles are all he could have hoped for on this day. He runs his thumb over the wood.

"I will cherish it forever."


	2. Melodies of Memories

The door to the attic creaks loudly in the silence of the compound. Elijah flicks on the switch next to the door, and a small light bulb dimly illuminates the room. He has been familiarizing himself once more with structure and layout of his old home. It was telling, the parts which Marcel had changed and which he had left the same. 

The lights, for instance, were all new. They had barely begun transferring to electricity when when they had fled New Orleans, and in many ways, the ubiquity of light is still a novelty. 

A layer of dust covers the ground, and his footsteps leave a trail as he walks to the centre of the room. White sheets shroud what are probably paintings, and at least a dozen boxes are lined up against the furthest wall. 

One box stands slightly apart from the others. Marcellus, it reads in golden letters. Klaus had it made by the finest carpenter in New Orleans, and had revealed it with much pride. The boy had been overjoyed, never having any possessions of his own, never mind a box to put them into. 

Elijah turns away from it, ready to leave the memories behind, when he spots another chest locked in between some paintings. He pulls it free, scraping it against the floor. Older personal items, such as his journals and violin had been stored at the plantation house, but his most prized possessions had been left behind. He had thought them lost. 

The lock is fastened tight, but it clicks open at his touch. He had asked Celeste to enchant it, keeping it safe from his brother's prying fingers. The spell had remained active even after her death.

"One condition, Monsieur," Celeste had smiled when he asked her, a glint in her eyes.

"And what is that?" he had responded, ready to grant her everything.

Elijah pushes the lid open. A picture of her lies on top. The glass is broken, but he does not care as he trails her face with his fingers.

"Always remember me," Celeste had whispered.

Elijah swallows and puts it away, face down. He lifts one of his more recent journals instead. Absentmindedly he flips through it, not really reading the words. He stopped writing a long time ago, too busy first with keeping Mikael distracted, and then with finding and hunting down Niklaus.

He places it back inside, and his hand catches on a satchel, snuck between two of his journals. He hesitates, before taking it and standing. The satchel is made of leather, and tied close with a cord. Inside, there is a rectangular form, solid beneath his touch.

He opens it, and pulls out the wood. It is wrapped in oil cloth, which he removes.

The pan flute is still in one shape, but the wood has darkened and hardened throughout the ages. A crack runs up from one of the corners, rendering two of its pipes useless. Elijah can't remember when it broke. It must have been even before England, before Katerina and Trevor and the sacrificial mess.

He places the wood beneath his lips and blows down into one of the holes. It produces sound, but the tone is unclear. He tries the others, with much the same result. He had not expected more, given the state and age of the instrument, but somehow it still disappoints him.

"I thought I heard something up here," a voice rings out.

Elijah's head snaps up, but a small smile automatically curls his lips as he sees Hayley enter. She looks around the attic, her hands in her pockets, unimpressed. 

"Here lie all the disregarded million dollar paintings?" she asks cheekily.

Elijah shakes his head. "You should ask Marcel," he says, grabbing the oil cloth. 

Hayley notices the movement. "What is that?" 

"It's a flute," Elijah answers. To his own surprise, he finds himself continuing. "My brother made it for me, when we were children"

"Klaus made that," Hayley asks incredulously.

Elijah holds it out to her, and she takes it carefully, turning it around in her hands.

"It's like a..."

"A pan flute, yes." He flashes a smile. "Historians would have a field day." 

"And you can play this?" She catches herself. "Of course you can."

Her gaze softens, and one hand absentmindedly lands on her belly. 

"I saw his paintings," she continues. "He does like to make stuff."

Elijah takes the flute from her and wraps it back in the oil cloth. 

"I like to remember him as he was then," he says softly. "Even fear of my father could not stop his wish to create."

Elijah returns the flute to the satchel and places it back in the chest. He closes the lid, hiding the memories away. When he stands back up again, he finds Hayley looking at him, her face unreadable.

"What is it?" he asks gently.

Hayley blinks. "Nothing." She flashes a smile. "I just hope my daughter inherits her father's creative talent, instead of his talent for murder."

Elijah pushes past her, humming. "Those aren't necessarily mutually exclusive," he teases.

Hayley chuckles and hits him on the arm as she follows him. Elijah can't help a grin forming on his face. He lets her through the door first, and glances back into the attic before switching of the light and closing the door.

The attic hides trophies and relics from his past. But maybe, it is time to look towards the future.

**Author's Note:**

> A wooden pan pipe was discovered in Jorvik, a Viking settlement (10th century).  
For someone playing it, see: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LqBJudLYFsY
> 
> Since Klaus was able to make Rebekah a detailed wooden figure, I assumed he is skilled enough to make a panpipe :)


End file.
